


To Sit in the Garden

by Twolittlesparrows



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: Fluff and Smut, M/M, Old Men In Love, Porn with Feelings, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 00:08:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29600838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twolittlesparrows/pseuds/Twolittlesparrows
Summary: They were not men where the concept of love was an easy thing. Life – their lives in particular – was far too complicated and dicey to really allow it. Yet Havelock had to admit, even it was only to himself, that this man was someone who he held in high esteem and harboured a hefty dose of affection towards. He cared quite deeply for Samuel.---It was still a lovely evening. Leaning against the stone wall, Havelock watched a collection of small birds flit and swarm around a lamp, catching moths. The creatures darted and swooped, deftly catching their prey. Little paper thin wings fluttered to the ground. It was serene. A brisk wind caught him, and Havelock pulled his heavy cloak around his shoulders. With care, he crossed his bad leg over the other, hands clasped on his knee. Havelock allowed himself a moment of quiet and closed his eyes.'What the bloody hell do you mean you don't know where he is?' Boomed a voice. Havelock opened his eyes. The birds scattered. A harried looking clerk trotted lopsidedly beside Commander Vimes, face beet red and hands waving.
Relationships: Havelock Vetinari/Samuel Vimes
Kudos: 42





	To Sit in the Garden

The palace gardens were quite lovely at sunset. In a secluded spot, on a bench hidden behind a tree and collection of flowering shrubbery, sat the patrician. He had wanted a quiet evening stroll to clear his thoughts. What he got was his leg seizing up in the cold weather. He made it to his little hiding spot, rubbing his thigh and sighed.

It was still a lovely evening. Leaning against the stone wall, Havelock watched a collection of small birds flit and swarm around a lamp, catching moths. The creatures darted and swooped, deftly catching their prey. Little paper thin wings fluttered to the ground. It was serene. A brisk wind caught him, and Havelock pulled his heavy cloak around his shoulders. With care, he crossed his bad leg over the other, hands clasped on his knee. Havelock allowed himself a moment of quiet and closed his eyes.

'What the bloody hell do you mean you don't know where he is?' Boomed a voice. Havelock opened his eyes. The birds scattered. A harried looking clerk trotted lopsidedly beside Commander Vimes, face beet red and hands waving.

'His l-lordship said he d-didn't w-wish to b-be d-disturbed!' Quivered the clerk. Vimes stopped in his tracks, his cloak billowing around him dramatically. The poor clerk couldn't stop his feet in time, and half trotted half tripped further down the path before he could catch himself.

Havelock sighed, but didn't move. He watched as the young man drew himself up, fiddling with his neck tie. 'I'm...going to...have to ask you to l-leave...?' The boy deflated even as he spoke, the hard stare from the commander breaking his resolve.

There was a quiet pause as commander and clerk regarded each other. Havelock stretched a foot out and snapped a twig under his heel.

Vimes threw up his hands, 'Ah, well. There we have it then. Fair enough lad, fair enough.'

The clerk shifted uneasily, 'Oh...okay-'

'Mind if I have a wander through the gardens while I'm here, lad?' Vimes clapped him on the shoulder. 'I've never really had the chance before.'

'Oh...yes, of course, Commander.' And with that the clerk shuffled off, a sunken shell of his former self.

Havelock smiled, and simply waited. He closed his eyes again, settling into a relaxed slouch. It took a couple of minutes. Boots crunched over gravel. Then stopped. Bushes were prodded. More crunching of stone. Then swearing and the rustle of shrubbery signalled the arrival of Commander Vimes.

'Did you enjoy yourself, harassing my staff like that?' Havelock asked, still not opening his eyes. He felt the bench shift as Vimes sat heavily beside him.

The man grunted, 'What are you playing at, sitting out here?'

'I simply wanted some time away from...people.'

'Oh...' He felt Vimes shift awkwardly.

Havelock placed his hand on Sam's knee, turning to look at him. In the fading light he looked tired, the lines and scars on his face deeper, but the distant lights reflected in those simple brown eyes of his. 'Don't worry,' he said softly. 'You don't count.'

'As people?' Vimes chuckled, his cheeks pink.

'Exactly,' Havelock moved closer, and leaned against Sam. He shivered as a breeze picked up. Vimes moved, wrapping his cloak around them both. With his arm around Vetinari's shoulders, Sam scooted closer. Havelock smiled. He settled against the solid warmth of Vimes, his hand still on his knee.

With the tip of a finger, Vetinari drew lazy circles on the man's leg. He felt the tiny shift in his breathing, and the small cough of Vimes clearing his throat. The last of the light faded, leaving the pair truly secluded. Sam tentatively plucked at the edge of his cloak, his fingertips brushing near Havelock's ear. His touch was light, almost timid as he let his fingers comb through Vetinari's hair. Turning into the touch, Havelock pressed a chaste kiss to the man's palm. Sam's arm tightened around him, and he leaned in, kissing just behind his ear.

Havelock shivered, humming. He let himself relax, head tipping to the side. They sat like that a moment, Havelock in his arms, Sam's warm breath on his neck. Then Havelock moved, now sitting in the commander's lap. Vimes cleared his throat, resting his chin on Vetinari's shoulder. His strong arms wrapped around his waist, and Havelock couldn't help but chuckle. 

'What?' Vimes nudged him. 

Vetinari waved a hand, 'Oh, nothing.' 

Vimes grunted, rocking them both gently, 'Nah, come on, tell me.'

'I wasn't laughing at you, if that is your concern, Vimes,' He said sweetly. 'I was simply expressing an emotion. I do that, you know.'

His companion snorted, and nuzzled into his neck. And Havelock found himself near melting in the embrace. Crickets chirped. The city was still so loud, and yet right then, in that place, it could have been in another world. All that mattered was the warmth of Sam Vimes, and the feel of his stubble on Havelock's skin. 

'...Sam?' Havelock pressed a kiss to his temple.

'Hmm?'

'Why are you here?'

Vimes pulled back, brow raised, '...You forgot.'

It was Havelock's turn to pull back, 'Forgot what?'

'Oh wow,' Vimes shook his head, tutting. 'I can't believe this.'

Vetinari frowned, and sent his mind hurriedly digging through his mental filing cabinets. He came up with nothing. He was certain there was nothing about the day to warrant remembering-

'Good grief, what am I going to do?' Vimes sighed dramatically. 

Havelock narrowed his eyes, ‘...You’re lying. I haven’t forgotten anything.’ 

‘Are you sure?’ 

‘I never forget,’ He frowned. ‘Unless it is prudent for me to do so.’ 

Vimes clicked his tongue, shaking his head. ‘Tragedy,’ He sighed. He tightened his grip on Vetinari and pressed his lips to the underside of his jaw. ‘I am beside myself in grief.’ 

‘Oh, for goodness sake, Vimes-’ The rest of his sentence was lost as Vimes kissed him. A hand in his hair, the other on the small of his back, Havelock was pulled in hard. He moaned. He couldn’t help it. 

Light moved near them. The men stopped, barely breaking apart, but frozen. Two palace guards wandered nearby, torch in hand. Vimes started shaking. Turning with wide eyes, Havelock gave the commander a withering look. 

The man was giggling. 

Havelock clamped a hand over Sam’s mouth, which only made the man laugh more. By the time the guards were far enough away, Vimes was snorting, eyes filling with tears. Havelock slipped from his lap, straightening his cloak, ‘Stop it.’ 

Vimes waved a hand, sucking in sharp breaths. ‘Ah fuck,’ He snorted, shaking his head. ‘Come on, your lordship, let’s go.’ 

‘Go where?’ Havelock folded his arms, brow raised. 

Standing, the commander grabbed him around the waist, knocking Vetinari so off balance he had to hold on to the man to stay upright. 

‘Somewhere,’ The commander purred, hand moving lower, ‘With some walls. Maybe even a door. With a lock. Forgive me, but we’re too old to end up fucking in some bushes.’ 

‘Are you so certain that is how this evening is to progress?’ Havelock asked as haughtily as one could while being propped up, and having one’s backside groped. 

Vimes simply rolled his eyes, gave him a squeeze, and pushed the patrician out of the bushes. ‘Go on,’ he said. ‘Lead the way – I’m sure you’ve got some secret little doors around here.’ 

He was right of course. 

Havelock led him silently through the small passages, finding his way mostly by touch. Eventually they made their way to his suites. A fire already burned in the hearth, the warmth of the room hitting them like a wave. Not that Vetinari had a chance to really notice. 

As soon as the door clicked shut, Vimes spun him around, and pushed him against the wall. Hot bites landed on his neck and throat. Callused hands roamed, unclasping his cloak and slipping under his shirt - 

‘Shit!’ Sam pulled back, sucking on his finger. 

Havelock blinked, momentarily dazed. Then he removed his top most layer, revealing an arrangement of criss crossing leather straps holding small and very sharp blades. They glinted evilly. With a look of half horror, half unabashed lust, Vimes looked him over. He hooked a finger through one of the straps and gave it a playful tug. He smirked. 

‘Oh, I like this,’ He said, ‘Though perhaps without the shirt. And the knives.’ 

‘Don’t the blades add a little danger?’ 

Vimes chuckled, ‘You’re dangerous enough as it is.’ He stepped back properly now, moving to stand by the fire. He unclasped his own cloak, carefully picking it up to drape over a chair. He didn’t turn around as the sound of knives being unsheathed and placed on a table filled the room, and Havelock wondered if he really understood how special that made him, that he was to be allowed to be with him unarmed. 

Their eyes met. Sam held out his hand, a softness in his face that made Havelock sigh. Sam knew. He took Sam’s hand, and stood in front of him. With a hand on his cheek, Vetinari kissed him. Soft and slow, quelling the fire that always burned within Vimes. 

Sam held him at the waist, head tipped back as they deepened their kiss. Vimes made surprisingly soft sounds for such a gruff man. Havelock adored it. He dropped an arm, bringing his fingertips to trip delightfully under the man’s shirt and over his hip. 

Vimes made a fantastic shocked and mildly choked sound, hips shifting forward, his back arched. Nails digging in, Havelock dragged his hand up Sam’s spine, drawing a snarl from him. Vimes walked him backwards – and pushed him onto the bed. 

Landing with a gasp, Havelock wasn’t given any time to recover. Vimes straddled his hips. He pulled off his shirt before grabbing Vetinari’s wrists, pinning them to the bed above his head with one hand. Havelock made a show of squirming, pulling against the hold, biting back his grin when Vimes tightened his grip. He arched his back and let his eyes flutter shut as Sam sucked on his neck. 

He’s going to leave marks, Havelock thought with a grin, Capital - 

Sam’s free hand pressed between his legs, moving with excruciating slowness. Groaning, Vetinari writhed, needing something more through the layers of fabric. Vimes chuckled, a cruel and delicious sound. 

He pressed the flat of his hand to Havelock’s abdomen, lips by his ear. ‘Well then, your lordship,’ he smirked, breath hot, lips brushing his skin. ‘I take it you liked that?’

Havelock rolled his eyes. He arched his back, straining against the hold on him, ‘Vimes?’

‘Yes?’ 

‘Fuck me.’ 

Between the pair of them, layers of clothing got rapidly removed. Vimes derailed himself momentarily, eyes wide when he discovered another strap of leather around Havelock's naked thigh, a blade holstered. The commander gently took his leg, laying it across his lap. He flicked the holster open with this thumb, slowly pulling the knife out. It clinked on the bedside table.

'Don't worry, Vimes. I don't have any more little secrets.'

'Well, that's a lie,' Sam chuckled, fingertips tracing the edge of the strap. 'I'd wager you're more secret than man at this point.' 

Havelock gave this a moments consideration. He sat up, arm around Sam's shoulders, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his lips, 'Perhaps. But you know more of them than most.'

Vimes hummed, smiling, though there was something in his eyes that caught Havelock off guard. 'Well,' he said, 'As I am one of those secrets, I'm happy to be in such company.'

Cupping his cheek, Vetinari kissed him, moving to straddle his thighs. Sam made a small, strangled sound, stroking down Havelock's back, his nails dragging lightly. They were not men where the concept of love was an easy thing. Life – their lives in particular – was far too complicated and dicey to really allow it. Yet Havelock had to admit, even it was only to himself, that this man was someone who he held in high esteem and harboured a hefty dose of affection towards. He cared quite deeply for Samuel. 

Dipping his hand down between their bodies, Havelock took hold of Sam's cock. He made another strangled sound, his grip on Havelock tightening. With firm strokes, Havelock drew a groan from the man. Vimes fell back on his hands, head tipped, throat exposed. He was quite handsome, in his own way. He kissed his throat, picking up his pace. Sam groaned, holding Vetinari's thigh, fingers hooked on the strap. 

Sam sucked in a breath, brows knitted, 'H-Havelock-'

Vetinari hushed him, kissing him hard and catching his bottom lip with his teeth. Sam grunted, wrapped an arm tight around Havelock's waist, and flipped them. His kisses near burned with their hunger. Havelock gladly let himself be overpowered. Panting and flushed, the men moaned, bodies turning into a needy tangle. Vimes cupped his cheek, pressed his forehead to Havelock’s own and sighed. Carefully extracting himself, Vimes sat up and opened the beside table drawer. 

As he listened to Vimes rummage through the drawer, Havelock got comfortable. He grinned to himself, cheek pressed to the cool fabric of a pillow. He rolled onto his side, facing the wall, tying not to giggle as the man grumbled about condom packets. Just as he was rolling over offer his assistance, Vimes gently pushed his shoulder and slipped his hand down. He had found the small bottle of lubrication Havelock kept tucked away, and was slowly pressing his wet fingers into him. 

Vetinari gasped softly, rocking back against Sam’s hand, the man’s movements growing firmer. Vimes nipped softly at the shell of his ear, and Havelock could damn near hear the grin he had as he whispered, ‘How’s that for you, then?’ 

Breathing out a small expletive, Havelock reached behind himself to grip whatever part of Vimes he could. It turned out to be his elbow. ‘Sam,’ he sighed softly, brows knotted. ‘Dear, I-’ 

‘Shh,’ Sam kissed the back of his shoulder, fingers slipping from him. Havelock groaned at the absence, eyes half shut. Carefully, slowly, he was filled again. Thighs giving an involuntary quiver, Havelock made a small sound, pressing back against Sam. 

Vimes gripped his hip, steadying him, making them both take a moment to adjust. Then he moved. His hand slipped from Havelock’s hip to rest over his stomach, holding him tight as Vimes rocked. Matching his rhythm, Vetinari arched and rolled his hips, pulling some choice curses from the commander. Pushed further onto his stomach, Vimes changing the angle to get as much from him as possible, Havelock moaned and gasped, allowing himself the freedom to be as loud and wanton as he damn well pleased. 

The men gripped bedding and thighs. Teeth grazed Havelock’s shoulder, stubble brushed his skin. Stomach tight, Havelock reached down and stroked himself. He started to quiver, sweat on his brow. Panting, toes curling, he groaned low in his chest, reaching his tipping point. Body shuddering, he was putty under Sam’s attention. 

Vimes swore under his breath, forehead pressed to Havelock’s back. Sam fucked him till he got all he needed and Havelock was beyond delighted. The sounds of Vimes moaning against his skin, the feel of him, filled Havelock with an intense warmth and pleasurable ache. His whole body hummed, relaxed and satiated. They eased themselves apart, and Vetinari again made an involuntary sound at the absence of his lover. 

Strong arms wrapped around his middle. Vimes pressed kisses to his spine, nuzzling into him. They lay like that for a while, bodies curled, fingers intertwined over Havelock’s chest. 

Slowly, Havelock rolled over. Sam gave him space, then as soon as they were face to face, he pulled him back in, kissing Havelock’s cheek. 

‘You,’ Havelock yawned. ‘Are an old softie really.’ 

‘Oh, shut up,’ Vimes grumbled. He nuzzled into Havelock’s hair, breathing deeply. 

Stroking his palm over his hip, along his waist and ribs, Vetinari admired the sheer amount of scars on the man. The older ones that had nearly faded next to fresher, more vibrantly coloured puckered skin. There were bruises too. A small pang of emotion rippled through his heart. 

‘Get up,’ Havelock said, patting Sam’s hip before sitting up. ‘And follow me.’ 

Vimes didn’t move. With a deadly and pointed frown Havelock waved a hand, ‘You need to move if I am to get off the bed.’ 

Vimes smirked, and shrugged one shoulder. ‘Not me who wants to get up,’ he said, eyes narrowed in challenge. 

Havelock heaved a mighty sigh. With great annoyance, and regret, he clambered over Vimes. Unsteady on his feet, he limped out of the room, ignoring the snigger that followed him. 

In the bathroom, Havelock lit one candle. He sat on the edge of the large bathtub, turning the taps. The room soon filled with steam. The deep shadows flickered. Vimes came up behind him and kissed the back of his head. Chin on his shoulder, the commander’s hands knitted over his stomach, Vetinari was amazed at the sheer softness of the scene. 

Warm water lapped up his legs. Turning off the taps, he slipped into the water, leaning back against the tub. Vimes watched him with a smile, then absent-mindedly patted his own naked body. 

Vimes frowned, ‘I don’t have pockets.’ 

‘I’d be shocked if you did, Vimes, you’re not wearing any trousers.’ 

‘...Would you mind if I smoked?’ 

Havelock shook his head, ‘No, dear Samuel, just this once I won’t mind.’ 

Vimes padded out, returning with a cigar in hand. He lit it with the candle before climbing in the bath to join Havelock. He sat back, leaning against the patrician, sending a puff of smoke to mingle with the steam. Vetinari kissed the nape of his neck. He felt Vimes relax, his strong, weary body fitting so easily against his own. 

With his fingertips, Havelock started mapping out pressure points along Vimes shoulders. He moved slowly, counting in his head. When he found the ones he was looking for, along either side of the man’s spine, he pressed hard with two fingers on each hand, moving them in tiny circles. The reaction was instant. 

Vimes groaned, head tipping forward. Feeling the tension leave the muscles, Havelock worked upwards. He followed the points along the side of Sam’s neck up to the base of his skull. 

‘...Fucking hell,’ Sam murmured, letting Havelock turn his head slightly to reach a particularly knotted muscle along his neck. Vetinari brought his hands around to Sam’s collarbone, frowning in concentration as he mapped the points out backwards. Each press and shift made Vimes relax even more. Soon he was a puddle of his former self, lounging against Havelock, his cigar almost forgotten. 

Satisfied, Vetinari wrapped him in his arms, cradling his head against his chest. Sam’s breathing deepened, the hand which held his cigar over the edge of the tub growing limp. He yawned. 

‘...Mm can hear your heart,’ Vimes murmured. 

‘Shocked that I have one?’ 

‘...Kinda-’ he snorted, sitting up. Heavy lidded eyes gazed into Vetinari’s, ‘But not really.’ 

Havelock traced his fingertip along the curve of Sam’s cheekbone, ‘Did I actually forget something today, or were you pulling my leg?’ 

‘You did forget.’ 

Havelock growled, flicking Sam’s ear, ‘What, pray, did I forget then?’ 

Vimes wrinkled his nose, rolling his eyes, ‘It’s our anniversary.’ 

Vetinari blinked, ‘....No it isn’t.’ 

Snorting with laughter, Sam shrugged, ‘Yes it is!’ 

‘No it bloody well isn’t Samuel, I would know, I wrote it down-’ He stopped. Vimes’ expression was a mixture of pity, cruel joy and above all else, love. It hit Havelock like a brick. 

‘You wrote it down, did you sir?’ 

‘Shut up-’ 

‘Keeping notes on us? Do you write my name in cursive in your diary?’ 

Havelock’s traitorous cheeks turned pink, ‘Samuel Vimes, I swear I will stab you.’ 

The man just laughed, turning to settle against his chest again. He yawned happily, ‘I was only pulling your leg, dear. I know it ain’t today. Well, not the main one anyway.’ 

‘If you don’t make your point soon, Vimes, I’m going to have to employ some rather cruel tactics to shut you up-’ 

Sam laughed, ‘Don’t get hiffy, Havelock. All I was going to say was, it is the anniversary of the first time you kissed me.’ 

‘...Oh,’ He breathed. ‘Well, I...’ Derailed, Vetinari took a moment. He closed his eyes, pressing his cheek to the top of Sam’s head. ‘I can hardly be expected to remember that, we kiss so often it hardly requires any notice,’ He said, but his heart wasn’t in the quip. The memory had been jogged, and right then all he was able to think about was the feel of Sam’s had gripping his wrist, a hastily whispered confession, and the taste of his blood. 

Vimes must have sensed something because he sat up, and turned, cupping Havelock’s cheek. This kiss did not taste like blood, and was slow, languid, and neither man was in any hurry. 

‘Hey,’ Sam whispered against his lips, fingertips stroking his cheek. ‘Don’t frown like that. You’re alright. I...’ he sighed, ‘Look I’m not good at saying it, to anyone, but I...um-’ 

Havelock shook his head, smiling, ‘I know.’ 

‘Yeah?’ 

‘Yes.’ 

‘Good,’ Vimes nodded to himself, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. ‘Good, because that’s something you should know.’ 

Vetinari sighed, pressing a kiss to his forehead, ‘I love you too, Sam.’

**Author's Note:**

> If you like my work here, please consider giving me a follow on Tumblr at [Neon-Goblin-Art](https://neon-goblin-art.tumblr.com) I post fanart and updates there :D Thanks!


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